My parents used to tell me that my brothers and sisters would grow to be my best friends. I laughed. Growing up, I love my siblings, had fun with them, was rather close to them...but admit that they would be my bff's. Never. Besties with a brother whose nickname for me was "Poop", yes like what you flush down the toilet. Besties with a sister who seemed to be talented at what I failed at? Never? Absolutely adore the little people who pinched, kicked, cuddled, and drooled on me? Um, no.
I laugh at my former self. That silly little girl who never wanted to admit how many trailed behind her.
I couldn't really help falling in love and becoming best friends with my siblings. They were always there. They were the actors in my plays, the ones who I competed with in school, who share all my childhood memories. We grew up in the same household, buried the same father, clung to the same mother, grew up far too early, and met a brutal world. Together.
My brothers and sisters are more than my best friends. They are my family. My everything. We are each other's most ardent cheerleaders (save our mom :). We know each other better than one would think possible.
We are linked together through blood, through common pain, through love, and through undying loyalty. My brothers and sisters are the only ones who can fully understand why when I want to talk about Daddy I tell a humorous anecdote. They're the only ones who understand why we can laugh when we talk about death--something other people find morbid. We know that humor and joy pulled us through that time. We know that when we laugh, Daddy's spirit shines through us. We're all a cross between Daddy and Momma's pride and joy.
I know that if I have a problem, I have a slew of besties to go to. I have possee that won't ever desert. I have people that are linked to me with a bond that's deeper than anything else.
Now, I love it when Benj calls me "Poop". It's his pet name for me. A constant brotherly goading, and a slight joke since my first job involved a good deal of that substance. He's always there with a wry smile and his truck and I love filling culverts with mud with it..and not getting caught. Rachie's talents are now seen as a perfect complement to mine, and I love having a sister I can run to with problems of any sort. She is an inspiration to me. Brilliant Joshy and I have long debates and discussions, I feel such a pride in watching him mature. Birdie is so much of what I was, with her own brand of spunk and darling thrown im. Abraham is my little soldier, always marching forward, no matter if a brick wall or meadow lies before him. Joannna is a beautiful representation of girlhood and happiness, everything sweet and nice as the poem says. Stephen Joel witticisms brighten my day, even from 500 miles away. And I think he knows more about science than I do.
All this to say, I wish I had discovered the joy of siblings before nasty adulthood with its work, worries, and perpetual bills came. I wish that I could go back to the days we played in the ditch, or built colonies in the field, built waterparks, crashed bikes, scared babysitters, did school together, and pinched eachother in the van on the way home from church.
I can't bring back childhood, but I can relish each moment I have with the seven people biologically closest to me. They are my blood siblings and my heart siblings. They are my favorites.
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